


My Good Girl

by burgersfromspace



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Graphic Description, Nudes, Phone Sex, Romance, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgersfromspace/pseuds/burgersfromspace
Summary: Bucky's on an undercover mission overseas and finds that it's awfully difficult to keep his urgencies at bay when his mind keeps traveling back home, back to you. He misses you terribly, and he's going to make sure you knowjusthow much he does.





	My Good Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sinner and I'm kinda okay with it? Enjoy!

"C'mon, T-1000. She'll still be here when we come back!"

Bucky hisses at the sound of Sam's pestering, even more at the nickname he's been given. The metal-armed male presses his forehead down against yours as he breathes against your lips, "I'm gonna kill him. I swear to  _God_ , I'm gonna kill him."

"Relax," You chuckle and plant a firm hand on his chest, "Sam's right anyway. It's just two weeks, Buck. I'll still be here when you come back."

Bucky knows you're right. He's done undercover missions without you before, but there's something about him leaving you for two  _weeks_  that doesn't sit well with him. He's grown attached to you and he's not sure he has it in him to leave you behind for so long without losing it.

The silver specks in his baby blues disappear when his eyes slide shut as he presses his lips tightly and firmly against yours. The kiss leaves him craving more, but he pulls away to make it easier for him to leave. "'m really gonna miss you, baby."

"I know," A nudge is delivered as you push him back gently, much to your own displeasure, "I'm gonna miss you too,  _T-1000_. But that quinjet's leaving in five, so get your ass on it before Sam and Steve have to drag you."

A boyish grin crawls onto Bucky's face, his dimpled chin only accentuating the sharpness of his jaw as he shakes his head in amusement. Once he finally moves back towards the quinjet, you call out his name, and he looks at you over his shoulder.

You nod to the overnight bag that he carries, "I packed a few sandwiches for you. In case you get hungry along the way."

Bucky can't help the fire that washes over his chest at the thought of you getting up early in the morning just to make him some sandwiches. And then his mind wanders back to how early the  _both_  of you woke up to buy enough time to become entangled in sweaty limbs over a shaking bed frame. Bucky pulls his pink lip between white teeth and smiles at you, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes, "I love you, sweetheart. See you in two weeks?"

"Love you too. See you in two weeks." You agree, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch his large back disappear over the ramp of the quinjet. Before the doors of the jet are pulled shut, you see a glint of silver. The quinjet lifts from the landing pad as the cogs in the ceiling pull and turn, two sides opening up. The bright blue sky swallows the quinjet up before the ceiling closes once more.

The hangar is empty except for you and a pajama-clad Natasha Romanoff. You can practically  _feel_  her teasing eyes without looking over your shoulder at her. You turn around to face the redhead and find yourself fighting off a giddy smile.

"What?"

"What do you mean  _what_?" Natasha's flirtatious voice rises as she walks towards you, "Y'know, packing " _a few sandwiches'_ for a partner before they go off to work sounds an awful lot like marriage."

You roll your eyes but can't really help the heat that begins to spark and arise over the apples of your cheeks. The funny thing is...she hasn't a single clue of how  _hard_  Bucky had fucked you when you brought up the fact that you wanted to marry him one day, even if there  _was_  a semblance of a joke in your suggestion.

"Trust me. I know it does."

* * *

 Ten days roll by.

You hear nothing from Bucky and he hears nothing from you.

He doesn't handle it as well as yourself because, just across the world, in an affluent corner of Hong Kong, Bucky remains sleepless beneath detergent-scented sheets and silk pillows. He wants to immerse himself entirely in how yielding the material is against the rolling terrains of muscle that adorn his body, but it only serves to make him think about  _your_  soft flesh, your soft belly and arms and Bucky misses you oh so much.

Bucky tosses onto his side to face the floor-to-ceiling window that covers the entire wall, offering him a generous view of the sun rising over Hong Kong. The view is absolutely gorgeous, and, before he knows it, he's tossing the sheets off of his body and wanders through his hotel room.

He  _knows_  he's not supposed to, he knows it's completely against the rules, but he wants to share this with  _you_. So he walks through the room, using the dim lighting of the rising sun to make a bee-line to his overnight bag. He digs into the very bottom before he feels the sleek and flat surface of his phone, and, with a triumphant hum, he pulls it out from the piles of clothes and heavy guns.

The phone is brought to life as he slides a silver thumb over the screen. It's nearing six in the morning, so it's late in the afternoon back in New York. He takes his chances and bites his lips as he nears the window of the hotel room.

Over the silhouette of the skyline of Hong Kong, the top half of the sun burns a dim orange and red, the clouds making way for its light to dimly illuminate the world.

Bucky lifts the phone and snaps a quick picture before he lowers his phone back down and types a quick message to accompany the picture that he sends to you.

 _Wish you were here with me, baby girl._   

As he awaits for your reply, he looks over his shoulder at the door of his hotel room before making his way back to the queen size bed, moving aside the white duvet so that he can sit and lean back against the headboard of the bed. He finds that he grows a bit angsty for your reply.

His chest tightens in relief when his phone buzzes once and he turns the phone around to read your response.  _You know you're not permitted to communicate with anyone outside of your assigned unit while on missions, right?_

Bucky grins as he types away, more than overjoyed to  _finally_  be talking to you.  _Then why'd you reply?_

His baby blues watch the three dots fading in and out as you text, the white screen illuminating his face in the relative darkness of the room, and for a moment he thinks you're typing out an entire lecture for him. To his pleasurable surprise, however, you send a picture of the large window in a room. He's quick to realize it's  _his_  bedroom in the compound. 

He wishes he was there, confined in the homely warmth that your body radiates, with your hot skin fitting tightly against his.

 _Because I wish you were here too_.

Bucky is quick to reply at the thought of you in his bed, lonely in the rainy weather. Something about the image tugs a string in his heart, and then a nerve between his legs. 

He shifts in the bed.

_You in my bed, sweetheart? How much have you missed me?_

Your reply rolls in. _I'll tell you if you tell me how much you've missed me first._

A dark smirk rolls over Bucky's lips for he can practically  _hear_  the tone of your voice through your text. You  _want_  to push him.

Bucky runs a silver hand through his chestnut-colored tresses before he commits entirely on what's about to happen.

 _Been thinking too much about you. Been thinking too much about your beautiful little face while I fucked you the day I left. About your tight cunt taking my cock whole._ Bucky breathes through his nostrils at the mere memory. His cock twitches and he pauses his typing for a second, shifting one more time before he continues.  _Miss the way you grab my hair, baby. The way you grab my hair when I'm fucking you too hard but you're such a good little slut, you ask me to fuck you harder._

He sends the message with his intentions pure and clear behind the speed at which he typed and sent it. He finds that he'd slowly lowered himself while he was typing, his exposed torso just now reacting to the cold atmosphere of the room. A shiver crawls over his skin and he shuts his eyes momentarily, his pulse quickening the slightest bit when he pictures your warm flesh reacting the same.

_You have a mouth on you, Bucky. What if someone finds these texts, then what?_

Bucky doesn't hesitate, the uncomfortable bulge in his sweatpants leaving no room for reluctance. _I don't fucking care if they see this, sweetheart. I love you and I miss you and I think I'm about to fuck my fist for you baby._

Because he definitely is, he thinks, as his unsteady fingers tug on the hem of the sweats that hang low around his narrow hips. He pulls the material down, and a low hiss sings along the room as his rock-hard erection springs free.

_Pictures or it didn't happen._

Bucky reaches for his phone and a raspy chuckle leaves his chapped lips. 

He adjusts his position a bit, just enough to kick his sweatpants off and he flings them somewhere onto the bed. His legs spread on their own accord and his thick length bounces with the small shifting in form. He's not so sure just how sensitive he is, so he approaches his erection with a steady and silver hand. Just as he expects, when the cool metal meets his burning flesh, a shock ripples through the bulging nerves of his red and swollen cock, a wonderful contrast to the sun-kissed flesh of his tight abdomen and thick thighs.

The heavy weight of his cock against his hand is more than welcomed as a low groan slips past his lips.

As he holds his cock, he lifts his phone just enough to aim the camera right over the firm surface of his belly. The photo captures the sight of Bucky's large and swollen cock, the dimly-lit hotel room in the background. It seems the flash of the camera focuses entirely on the contrast of his Vibranium fingers gripping the middle of his reddish dick, a silver thumb is pulling thick pre-cum from the slit on the head.

The photo is sent with a trembly finger as Bucky's breath quickens almost instantly, and he can't help but let his mind wander to your reaction when you receive the photo.

In the matter of a minute, however, he doesn't receive a reply, but rather a phone call.

Your name rolls onto the bright screen, a silly photo of you and him adorning your CID.

With a shaky thumb, Bucky answers and brings the phone to his ears, already desperate to hear your voice.

"Bucky."

" _Baby_ ," Bucky breathes out at the sound of your voice and it's almost enough to make him come undone, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck my hand thinkin' of you but I wanna know you'll be shovin' those pretty little fingers of yours up your cunt for me. Will you do that for me?"

There's a moment where there's nothing but shuffling on the other line and Bucky can practically  _hear_  you rushing to remove whatever's holding you back from touching yourself. His stomach tightens at the thought. "I will, but I'll be wishing it was your cock instead, fucking me right into this mattress."

A low breath leaves Bucky's pink and alluring lips at the sound of your voice speaking such sins into his ear, but it fuels the carnality of his actions as he positions the phone to his ear with his flesh hand and his cock in his silver one.

His fingers struggle to find a steady rhythm, what with how  _sensitive_  he is, especially when he hears you take a deep and shaky breath on the other line, "You touchin' yourself, sweetheart?"

"Mhm," You hum in confirmation and Bucky sighs softly when his hand finally finds a slow and steady pace at the soft sound of your hum.

"Tell me what you're thinkin' 'bout."

"Thinking about that night, how you made me think you were gonna take your time with me. You said you wanted to fuck me nice and slow, but then," Bucky listens intently as you hiss, and his cock twitches in his grip at the sound, "But then you lost  _control_. Think I said something and you lost control, fucked me so hard you left a dent in my headboard when you grabbed it." 

"I remember what you said," Bucky recalls, his eyes settled indefinitely on the glistening flesh of his cock, his hand rolling from the tip down to his base as he closes his eyes, "Y-You said you were mine 'n  _all_  mine. Remember that?"

A breathy laugh brushes into his ear, "I remember."

" _Fuck_ , baby, thinkin' about you sayin' you were mine" Bucky groans, "Thinkin' about fuckin' you every night because you belong to me 'n  _only_  me, it drives me crazy."

His thumb swipes over the slit of his head and he whines into the phone, and he whines more when a quiet moan slips from your throat, "I miss your pretty little  _moans,_  sweetheart. Miss you moanin' in my ear when I'm poundin' my cock into you. Don't you miss it, too?"

His abdomen contracts and his hips lift off the bed when you speak.

"I miss you so much, Bucky," Your breath halts and Bucky chases the sweet groan that erupts from your throat, "I miss your eyes and your voice and your laugh. And I miss your cock and I miss seeing how  _easy_  it is to fuck with you and your balls when I suck your cock." A grunt leaves his lips when your tone changes entirely. "I miss when you get  _mean_  with me and you grab the back of my head and force me to take your whole cock until I'm a gagging and sloppy mess."

Bucky's chest begins to heave when he pictures you lying between his legs, when he pictures your lips taking over the tip of his cock while you help him finish. But you're not there, and it hurts and Bucky grows impatient. He wants to go home to you.

"You always like it when I get mean with you, don't you? You like it when I fuck you so hard your hips bruise, you like it when I choke you so hard you can barely scream my name."

"I  _trust_  you."

There's something about the way that you stammer out your trust for Bucky that makes his grip tighten on his cock, and he can feel his balls tighten with a growing load of cum. 

"Baby, I'm so  _full_ ," Bucky groans out into the phone, sweat lining where several strands of chocolate-colored hair stick to his temples and where they wisp over his broad shoulders, "Wish you were here to take my fuckin' cum. You would, wouldn't you? I love how desperate you always are for me to cum inside you.  _God_ ," Bucky's voice breaks and he cries.

His back arches and his head is thrown back into the pillows. He nearly loses his grip on the phone, but he tightens it so much that the phone nearly cracks. At the same moment one hand tightens, so does the other, and his cock twitches in slight shock at the increase in the power of his grip.

"You cumming, baby?"

Bucky grunts again at the sound of your trembling voice, soft at the edges, filled with nothing but lust and clear intentions to completely undo him. And undoing him is exactly what you were doing, with nothing  _but_  your voice. He becomes achingly aware that you could recite the ABC's and he's so in love that he could coat his entire hand with a film of hot cum.

"Wish I was there with you, Bucky. You know how much I  _love_  watching you fuck your hand, just the same way you love watching me ride my fingers for you to watch. How I'm doing right now," Bucky cries when you pause to catch your breath, but he knows you're just as close, "The same way you love fucking me in front of the mirror in the bathroom, watching me take your cock like a good girl."

"Fuck, yeah," Bucky nods, the bulging muscles of his silver arm tensing and whirring as his hips lift from the bed once more, his voice throaty, "You're such a good fuckin' girl, baby.  _My_  good girl. When I get home I'm gonna bend you over 'n fuck you until my cock can't take it, 'till your pretty little cunt is  _begging_  for mercy 'n I'll show you  _exactly_  how good you are."

" _Shit_ , Bucky, miss you so, ah, so much," 

Bucky understands entirely that you're losing the ability to speak when your voice breaks, and he focuses solely on the small moans that run over the line, on the small breaths and whimpers that escape those lips that he loves oh so much. 

"Faster, baby," Bucky barely breathes out, "Roll your finger over that gorgeous clit of yours faster."

And you do, and when you're moaning his name and breathing  _this_  loud in his ear, Bucky comes tumbling down hard when he can practically  _picture_  your body arching and your toes curling, he can picture your skin tightening over your belly and he wishes he could be there to fuck you through your climax like he always does.

And then it's the very moment that your voice, broken and wanton, moans out his name one more time like a beautiful hymn to his ear, that he breaks apart into a pile of silver and sun-kissed dust.

His lips fall open dumbly and he's fisting his cock viciously with a secure grip as his hips pull up from the bed, his chest burning a deep red when a wretched cry erupts from his throat. His throat is scratched raw the moment that he growls your name and his balls give one last spark before they contract. Bucky's hips stutter as he fucks his hand to the end, the motion coming to a jittery standstill when jets of hot and thick cum shoot from his cock and dribble right down over his whitened knuckles.

There's a ringing in his ears as he works to catch his breath, and he doesn't realize that his phone has nearly slipped from his grip. He pulls it tighter to his ear as his chest heaves at an incredible speed, and he throws his head back in exhaustion. He listens with a small smile on his face as you work to catch your breath just as he does.

"You need to come home.  _Now_."

"Just a few more days, doll," Bucky speaks quietly, looking to the large window. The sun has risen some more, and it's nearly quarter to seven in the morning. Steve and Sam will come knocking at his door soon, at seven, like they've been doing since they arrived.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you eat those sandwiches?"

Bucky giggles, "I did and they were  _delicious_. You always get the meat-to-vegetable ratio just right. Thank you, doll."

He can hear you smile before you speak. "You're an idiot, Barnes. We could get in trouble with the big man for this. Now, hang up!"

"No,  _you_  hang up."

Bucky can't help the laugh that erupts from his throat when you laugh, "I miss you, Bucky. I'll see you in a few days, okay? I love you."

A warm smile crawls onto Bucky's face, "I love you too, baby. See you soon."

* * *

Soon turns into another  _seven_  days of silence.

You understand entirely that what you did that night, those seven days ago, was breaking a very  _important_  rule. Communicating with  _anyone_  outside of your unassigned unit during an undercover mission could attract unwanted attention, trackers, even. Bucky definitely did entice you to break the rule with him, if just once, though. And you find that you don't feel an ounce of guilt or regret, especially not with that  _photo_  of his saved to your camera roll.

He'd done good, though, and didn't call you or text you after that night. 

The absence left a void in your chest that you knew he'd fill when he'd return, but as the days rolled by, you were scared he  _wouldn't_.

"Hey," Natasha pokes her fiery red head through the opening of Bucky's door, where you'd been residing since he left, finding you lounged over the bed with your phone to your face. Natasha smirks in amusement before she speaks, "The T-1000-  _sorry_ , your boyfriend's back."

Your ears perk up at her arrival and when you do in fact hear the distant sounds of powerful wind lashing over the compound, you jump right out of the bed and to Natasha's side. You're glad you're still wearing the outfit you wore out to the breakfast date with Natasha and Wanda earlier that morning, for at least you could look as humanly presentable as possible.

You both traverse down the halls of the Avengers facility before you run into Wanda and Vis boarding the same elevator. Small talk is made, but you're most interested in the silver doors that separate you from the outside. You want to see him. So, when the doors slide open to the large hangar, you're the first one to step out, just as the ramp of the quinjet begins to lower.

Seventeen days without your Bucky proved to be  _awfully_  difficult.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky Barnes is the first one standing at the threshold of the ramp, his bag long forgotten on the seat he abandoned when the quinjet began to make its gradual landing.

By his side stands Steve, one strong and grounding hand on Bucky's shoulder. Behind them, Sam is shrugging off the heavy metallic pack on his back, "Don't tackle the poor girl, Barnes."

Steve smiles in agreement, and a little bit more when Bucky shakes his head in amusement, "Just excited to see my best girl, 's all."

"Man, the first thing I'm doin' is goin' to  _sleep_ on my Japanese linen.  _Then_  I'll say hi to everyone." Sam offers with a heartfelt laugh, coming up next to Steve and Bucky as the ramp finally begins to open. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, remembering all too well the video that you'd shown him  _too_  many times, "They're not even soft."

"Wow, you're  _not_  as uncultured as I thought you were."

"Sam," Steve warns.

"What? Just didn't think Robocop here would pay much attention to things like that..."

At this point, Bucky's more than capable of tuning Steve and Sam out entirely, because he  _sees_  you.

And  _God_  does it feel good to see home.

The ramp meets its full opening and his eyes are locked on you. Bucky finds that his heart begins to beat viciously against his chest as he watches a large smile take over your gorgeous face. With a gentle and microscopic smile of his own, he's taking meaningful steps forward, his heavy boots taking him right towards you, right past everyone else, right to home.

"Welcome home, soldier." You greet him with a chuckle, arms crossed over your chest.

The smile on Bucky's provocative lips grows and he's taking that final step before he's right in front of you, close enough for his arms to stretch forward to pull you right into him.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as you lift yourself onto your tiptoes. Bucky towers over you whilst he leans down to press his lips to yours, soft and gentle and filled with so many unspoken promises. He pulls away slowly with a renewed heat sparking through his body and down his spine as he smiles against your lips.

"I missed you so much, baby." He murmurs.

"I know you did. Breaking the  _rules_  and all. Tsk tsk."

You pull away just enough to look up at him and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he laughs, "You were a willing participant, remember? Or you might have that  _picture_  to remind you?"

He watches as you scrunch up your nose, and he can't help but lean down to press a quick and tender kiss to the bridge of your nose. "Let's go upstairs."

"What're we gonna do?"

"I  _did_  tell you I was gonna bend you over 'n fuck you 'till my cock can't take it, didn't I?"

Bucky watches with a devilish smirk as the apples of your cheeks heat up.

"You did."

"Then let's go, doll. I'm _starvin_ ' for my good girl." 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed!!


End file.
